Pasts Uncovered
by MissWritingMachine
Summary: With such a long history together, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye have many secrets hidden in their wake. Some of them are better left that way. ROYAI.
1. Off All Days

**Of All Days**

"I'm not boring you, am I?"

Riza looked up from her plate, where she had been moving around food absentmindedly with her fork. "Hm? Of course not, Major, excuse me." She gave a small, apologetic smile. "Please go on."

"You shouldn't address by my rank when we're in such a personal setting, Riza," the major laughed. "Call me Erich."

"Yes, sir," Riza replied. "I mean, Erich." Riza thought she might kill Rebecca Catalina. _"Ooh, that's so sweet," _she had cooed. _"Going out with him just once won't kill you. Do it for me!"_

It wasn't that Major Erich Blythe was a bad guy. In fact, Riza quite liked him as a person, though it _was _hard to deny that he was a bit on the boring side. No, really the problem was that she had absolutely no interest at all in becoming romantically linked with a military-man.

Major Blythe continued on his story about some mishap or another that had happened during his days at the military academy, and Riza went back to playing with her food. It was rather good food she was choosing to not eat, too. The major had spared little expense on the restaurant, and Riza felt a little sorry that she was wasting his time and money.

The date didn't help either. This was probably the last day of all days Riza wanted to be humoring somebody on a pity date. It's not like she could tell the reason why, though. She just had to grin and bear it, make it through this vapid dinner. Then she could go home and crawl into bed.

Of course, Major Blythe insisted on escorting her home. When they arrived at her apartment building, he said, "You know my building is only a few blocks away. We could continue the fun there…" He trailed off suggestively.

Riza tried not to be visibly disgusted – she really tried. She tried to pass her immediate grimace off as an amused grin and said, "Maybe some other time. I've got quite a lot of work to do tomorrow."

The major's face fell. "The Colonel must really work you pretty hard if he wants you in on a Saturday," he said. Then he muttered, quietly enough that he thought Riza couldn't hear, "I've always thought he was kind of a jackass."

"Goodnight Erich," Riza said, and she turned on her heel before he could lean in for a goodnight kiss.

When she turned into her hallway, she saw a figure sitting against her front door. It was Colonel Roy Mustang. On this date, she wasn't surprised.

"Who're the flowers for?" she asked, looking down at him, indicating the bouquet of lilies he had lain down at his feet next to a brown paper bag.

"For my lovely lieutenant. Who else?" he replied.

Riza gave him a small, pitiful smile. "You find the worst excuses to give women flowers." She unlocked her door. "You can come in, I guess."

Hayate greeted the pair. As excited as he was to see his master, he was more excited to see Colonel Mustang. Riza didn't like how taken Hayate was with Roy.

Riza walked into her kitchen and put the lilies in a cup. Her apartment was utilitarian and she didn't own a vase, but the lilies were nice nonetheless. "Can I make you a cup of coffee?" she asked Roy.

"I've got something better," Roy said, opening the brown paper bag and handing her a bottle of beer.

She accepted his offer gladly. "This is exactly what I needed," she said. Riza had never imagined that at twenty-seven years of age she would feel so old. "I hate today."

"I'll drink to that," Roy replied, and they clinked their bottles together.

Roy walked into her living room, which was as Spartan as the rest of her apartment, save for a couch and a coffee table, and took a seat. Riza sat down right next to him. This was the closest the two had been since, well, this day last year.

"Were you on a date?" Roy asked, taking notice to her attire - a lovely but conservative red dress and white jacket, which made sure to cover her entire back to hide her tattoo.

"That's none of your business."

"Who was it?" Roy teased. He seemed amused. "Was it that Major Blythe? From the Correctional Department? He's had his eye on you ever since we transferred to Central."

Riza reddened.

"It was, wasn't it?" He didn't seem so amused now. "You should of told me. I would have saved you some time and told you he's a pussy - he doesn't deserve you."

"Roy!" Riza said sharply. "I said it's none of your business. Besides, you're dating half of Central. I should be entitled to a date or two without _your_ approval."

Roy turned his face away, a bit ashamed. "You're right," he muttered. "Do whatever you want."

Then the pair sat in silence, sipping their beer. They were skirting the _issue_. After so many years, it wasn't really an issue that they needed to address, but neither of them could deny that they were both thinking about it.

"I can't believe it's been eleven years," Roy sighed after a while.

"I can," Riza said. "It's been eleven _long_ years." She leaned into him, placing her head in the crook of his neck and curling her legs up into her chest.

Roy reciprocated this movement, putting his arm around her waist. "Have I ever told you how sorry I am?" he said.

"Every year," Riza mumbled.

"Well, I am," Roy said.

"You certainly shouldn't be," she replied clearly. "It's not like it was your fault." Riza turned her head upwards, and saw that he was smiling a bit.

"It really _was_ my fault," Roy said amusedly.

"No!"

"Yes."

"Haven't we gone over this before?" Riza sighed. "If it was anyone's fault, it was equally both of our faults."

"I can live with that compromise," Roy said.

"Do you ever wonder..." Riza started, but she faltered.

"Hm?"

"Never mind," Riza said quickly.

"Wonder what would have happened if we hadn't made _that_ decision?" Roy asked.

"Yeah."

"All the time," Roy admitted. "Every day."

"Me too… Our lives would be a lot different," Riza said wistfully.

"But maybe not so bad," Roy said.

"Are you kidding me?" Riza scoffed. "You would be too restless. Even more impossible to deal with than you are now."

"Hey now!" Roy said, mock offended. "But I do know what you mean." He finished off his beer and used his now-free hand to massage the back of Riza's neck.

She moaned and closed her eyes. It had been a very, _very _long day.

"When I'm Fuhrer, we might be able to have that," Roy whispered into her ear.

When Riza opened her eyes, they were sad. "No," she said firmly. "When I made my decision I knew there was no going back. We will never have what I gave up."

"You're probably right," Roy agreed reluctantly. "You're always right." He fully embraced her and she embraced him back. There was nothing overtly sexual about the touch, yet it was incredibly intimate.

They laid there together in each other's arms all night, but the next morning, it wasn't spoken of. Roy left before Riza woke. When they saw each other Monday, they were no longer "Roy" and "Riza" – they were back to being "Colonel" and "Lieutenant."

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, yes, this was incredibly vague. But the issue in question shall be revealed in the next chapter, posted some time within the next week! I hope you enjoyed this – it's going to be a longer project, I think. But if you were at all intrigued please drop a review my way! Have a great week!_

_Elizabeth_


	2. Beginnings

**Beginnings**

_Fifteen Years Earlier_

He had come to the Hawkeye household shortly after her mother died – Roy Mustang, age fourteen – to become her father's apprentice. He had seemed so much older and wiser to Riza, though in actuality he was just as stupid as most teenaged boys. She was twelve, though, and she didn't know any better.

And Riza. Well, she was happy he was there. In the year since her mother had passed away from a bad case of pneumonia, her relationship with her father had become strained. In the years before, when her mother was healthy, Berthold Hawkeye had been a jovial man and a loving father. His wife's death had taken a toll on him, however, and the laughter Riza had often heard in her childhood was silenced. He buried himself in his research, often going on long journeys and leaving Riza at home to take care of herself.

So having Roy there was a relief to Riza. It broke up much of the tension, and laughter was present in the house once again.

_One Year Later_

"Roy, what are you doing?" Riza laughed. He had been with them a year already, and the two of them had become very close.

He was walking precariously along the edge of a high stone retaining wall. It was the first thing Riza saw as she exited the schoolhouse.

"I'm picking you up from school," Roy replied, waving. "Can't have a lady walking all the way through town unescorted, now can we?"

Riza chuckled. "Shouldn't you be training right now? I don't think that Father would approve of your time management."

Roy shrugged, hopping down from the wall to walk by Riza's side. "He went on another one of his trips. To the West, I think he said."

"Everything's west of here."

"True."

When they reached the household, which was a modest home with just enough room for its three residents, Riza unceremoniously dropped her bag in the front door and walked to the shed, where her father kept an assortment of hunting rifles. They weren't fancy – just practical – but Riza didn't care.

Riza was about eight when her father finally figured out that she hadn't inherited his alchemical prowess, and instead resorted to taking her hunting with him. And Riza was a damn good shot. Berthold delighted in this, and constructed a series of targets for her to practice on. This was before her mother passed, of course.

"You know, that isn't very ladylike, Riza," Roy teased as she took her first shot.

"Well your fear of mice isn't very masculine, so shove it, Roy," Riza said, gritting her teeth. "Besides, don't you know not to sneak up on someone who's _armed_? I could have shot you."

"You didn't, though, so everything turned out for the best," Roy replied. "Can I give it a try?"

Riza gave him a haughty look for an answer.

"What?" Roy said. "It looks pretty easy, to me."

"It looks easy, does it?" Riza said skeptically. "All right, maybe you _should _give it a try. Show me what you've got." She handed him the rifle.

Roy positioned it to take the shot, but before he could, Riza said, "No." It was matter-of-fact.

"What?" Roy asked. "This is how you do it."

"No way!" Riza laughed. "You look like a fool. Although," she drawled, "that's not much different than usual, now is it?"

"Well show me how it's done, then," Roy insisted. "It can't be _that _hard."

Riza bit her lip. "Okay, well you should support it like this," she said, leaning over him and adjusting his grip, leaving her hand resting against his. "And your right hand should be like this." She moved each of his fingers, one by one. The result was the two of them standing in an odd embrace, her cheek touching his.

It was the closest Riza had ever been to Roy – the closest she had been to any boy, really. She knew that some of the girls at school had kissed boys before, but she hadn't, and she blushed at the thought of kissing Roy.

"W-what do I do now?" Roy asked. Riza didn't know if it was from being so close together or from holding the completely foreign object, but she realized they had been standing there – completely still and silent – for just a little bit to long.

She undid the safety for him, stepped away from him, and said, "Just pull the trigger."

There was a bang as the gun went off. Riza wasn't sure where the bullet went, but it certainly wasn't anywhere near the target Roy had been aiming for.

"So maybe it is sort of difficult," Roy admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Yeah," Riza replied coolly. "Maybe."

_Sixteen Months Later_

"Happy birthday!"

"Urg," was all Riza could manage as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and squinted through the February morning sunlight that was coming through the window. "What time is it?"

"Who cares? It's your birthday," Roy grinned. "And I made you a cake."

Riza raised an eyebrow from where she still sat under the covers. "I didn't know you knew how to use the oven."

"Be quiet!" Roy snapped playfully. "It's not every day you turn fifteen. You'd better enjoy it!"

When Riza got dressed and walked to the kitchen, she saw a haphazardly frosted chocolate cake displayed on the table and smiled softly. "How did you even know it was my birthday?" she asked.

Roy shrugged. "Your father told me before he left."

Riza nodded. Berthold Hawkeye was on another one of his mysterious research missions. He had been gone for a couple of weeks, and Riza expected her birthday to pass uncelebrated, like all of her birthdays since her mother died.

"Eat up!" Roy served her a large piece of cake and watched her expectantly.

To Riza's surprise, it wasn't bad. It was a little too sweet for her tastes, but it wasn't the disaster it could have been.

Two pieces of cake (each) later, Roy and Riza were both splayed out in their chairs, ready for a food-induced nap, even though it was barely ten a.m.

"So where're all my presents?" Riza drawled.

Roy sat up in his chair and looked shy at this comment – which was strange. Roy Mustang was many things. Shy was not one of them. "I didn't have any money to get you a present."

"Hey, I was just joking," Riza said. "I don't need a present. The cake was great." She sat up too.

"But," Roy said, "I was thinking…"

"Thinking about what?"

"Thinking about doing something special for you." He leaned in towards her. Riza shied away, not expecting this move, but he touched her back and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet, and short, and perfect. And it was Riza's first.

* * *

><p>The next months were an exhilarating rush of secrets and stolen kisses. When Master Hawkeye wasn't on one of his trips, the young couple took to the town, hiding in alleyways to indulge their hormones.<p>

"What if…" Roy breathed heavily after one of their snogging sessions in the alley between the druggist's and the grocer's. "What if someone sees us and tells your dad?"

Riza smiled, her face a rosy red. "Who would do that? What's the big deal about two kids making out? It's not just us; people do it all the time."

Roy laughed. "I guess your right," he agreed. "I'm only worried because I know he could kick my ass."

On a particularly hot August day, six months into their secret escapades, Riza was laying on her bed, reading a book. To combat the heat, she had opened her windows and was wearing just an undershirt and cotton shorts. The heat had made her lazy – she hadn't left her room all day.

There was a knock at her open door, and she looked up to see Roy.

"Your old man just left," he informed her. "He said he'd be gone for about a month."

"Okay," she said, turning back to her book. She had very little contact with her father these days. It didn't surprise her that he didn't bother to bid her farewell.

Roy flopped down on the bed beside her.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm reading," Riza said.

"Sure you don't want to do something more interesting?" Roy wiggled his eyebrows.

"Go away, Roy," she laughed, turning away from him. "I want to finish this."

"Spoilsport," he muttered, but that didn't stop him. He rolled towards her, placing kisses on her neck as she continued to feign interest in her book. As he moved his mouth lower, to her chest, she dropped the book and reciprocated his affections.

Maybe it was due to the extreme heat, but clothes were hastily subtracted from the scenario. There was touching, moaning, and needing, and as quickly as it began, it was over. Their two bodies were entangled, panting and covered in sweat.

"Now wasn't that more interesting than your book?" Roy laughed.

Riza nodded, not trusting herself to form a coherent thought.

Roy placed his forehead against hers. "I hope I didn't rush you into something you weren't ready for…" he said. It wasn't his first time, but he knew it was hers.

She shook her head. "It was… perfect," she smiled.

Roy continued in his serious tone. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Riza broke out into a smile. Roy wasn't usually so forthcoming with his feelings, so she knew he meant it. "Same here."

The stakes were higher now, if Master Hawkeye were to find out about their relationship, which made it all the more exhilarating. When he was away on his trips, they spent every night together in Riza's room, and they sometimes even dared to make love while he was working in his study.

A month after Riza's sixteenth birthday, and a month before Roy's eighteenth, Roy approached Riza with a serious look on his face.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell your father?" he asked.

"You _know _that there's a lot of stuff I don't tell my father," she smiled deviously.

Roy still looked hesitant, but confessed, "I'm thinking about joining the military."

Riza stared thoughtfully for a moment. "Father won't like that," she said finally.

"I know."

"_I _don't like it," she added.

Roy winced. "Well, there's one other thing," he said.

Riza looked up expectantly.

"I've actually already enlisted," he said very quickly, as if to get it all out before Riza could stop him. "I just have to wait until my eighteenth birthday to start training."

Riza still didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said. "I wanted to, I just didn't want anyone to be able to talk me out of it. And if anyone could I knew it would be you."

"I understand," she said after a long silence. Her voice was raspy, on the edge of tears. "I know you want to help people, and you can do that by being in the military." She tried to wipe the tears away before they fell.

"You're the best," Roy said, cupping her cheek and indulging in a kiss. But Riza's tears kept on falling.

"I know that this is really what you want to do with your life," she cried, "but after you leave, I don't want to hear from you."

"What? What are you talking abo –"

"It'll be too hard," she cried. "It'll be too hard if I'm stuck here worrying about you all the time. It'll be easier if you just let me forget."

There was hurt in Roy's eyes. "I guess I can do that," he said, but the words were a struggle. "If that's what you really want–"

"It is."

"Okay then," Roy agreed. "But I still have a few weeks before I leave. Let's enjoy them together, okay?"

Riza nodded. The next few weeks were almost normal. Almost. There were times when Riza almost forgot that she would be losing him. But then she looked at a calendar and thought, _"Twenty-two days, seventeen days, eleven days, three days," _and it felt like someone had stabbed her in the gut.

On April sixteenth, Roy's eighteenth birthday, Riza woke up, and he was already gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So from here on out the story will take place chronologically, starting in the past and building up to the present. I hope y'all enjoyed! Thanks for all the lovely alerts and faves for the last chapter. If you leave a review I will give you cookies/a mention in the next :) **

**Elizabeth**


	3. Surprises

**3. Surprises**

She had to stop crying. She looked like an idiot, walking through town with tears streaming down her face, eyes all red and puffy. It had been four weeks since Roy left for Central to begin his military training. True to his word, he had not tried to contact her. And now she was especially glad for that. If he contacted her now, Riza didn't know if she would be able to resist going straight to Central and throwing herself into his arms. God, she was such a wuss, she thought as she wiped some of the tears out of her eyes, only to be replaced by a fresh wave.

Then, two weeks after Roy departed, her father asked her a favor. It was important, he had said. Riza thought it was odd. After months of barely speaking to her, Berthold Hawkeye was almost eager for his daughter's attention. Riza had agreed without knowing what the favor actually entailed. She thought it would take her mind off of the _other _man who was in her life. Or who _wasn't _in her life.

The result was hours laying flat on her stomach on a table, being poked by needles. And in the end Riza got a fancy new piece of artwork on her back – her father's research. Her back still felt raw and was a little bit red. It figured that the only reason her father would pretend to notice her was because he wanted to advance his research.

The day after her father tattooed her, the vomiting began. At first, she thought her sickness was from the pain, but when it continued for days, she suspected that it was something else entirely. The next week, her father left for another trip – he went south this time, and Riza decided that she needed to see a doctor. Which is what started the tears.

She had stayed strong since Roy had left. She hadn't cried once up until now, and even managed to go a couple hours at a time without thinking about him. Riza was going to get over him. Girls did that all the time, right? She knew that it was only a matter of time before Roy got over her.

But now everything was completely different. Well, there was one part that was the same. If Roy kept his promise and didn't contact her again, he would still get over her. He might even forget about her. Riza, though, would never be able to do those things. Get over him, maybe, but forget about him? Never.

The doctor had been kind enough, though Riza could see the pity in his eyes when he told her. Pregnant, he'd said. Close to eight weeks, by the looks of it. He'd even called in a female nurse, one who had children, so she could talk to someone about it. But Riza didn't want to talk about it. When the nurse tried to pat her on the back, tell her there were options, Riza just got up. Left the room with out a word, leaving the nurse stunned by her apathy.

And now, she was at home. Alone, as usual. The tears were still falling, which just made Riza angry. Why couldn't she stop crying? She was stronger than this. She hadn't cried this much since… Well, since her mother died. And boy, could she use a mother right now.

Between the tears, Riza tried to make a sandwich. She hadn't eaten anything all day (she didn't think she could keep anything down), and it was almost five o' clock. The mundane task seemed to calm her. She concentrated on each little movement: slicing the bread, adding the turkey, spreading on mayonnaise. By the time she finished making her meal, she had managed to stop crying. That, at least, was a start.

When she ate, her mind was completely blank. And she liked it that way. She didn't think about Roy, or her father, or the... _thing_ that was currently growing inside of her. She just thought about eating a turkey sandwich.

This bliss, however, was too good to last. Eating a sandwich, it turns out, doesn't actually take very long, and when she had finished devouring the last little crumb on her plate, Riza was forced to think again. Her thoughts were more rational this time. She had improved from the hysterical mess she was an hour ago, at least. She knew that something had to be done, and whatever she decided, Roy could _never_ find out.

This wouldn't be a problem, really. Unless he decided to come back and visit his old master within the next seven months. That was unlikely, though, for Berthold Hawkeye did not think fondly of the military, and now that Roy was part of it, he didn't think fondly of Roy, either.

Riza took a few deep breaths. This reminded her that her father _would_ know what was going on. She reached back to touch the small of her back, where her skin still burned from the fresh tattoo, and she immediately decided that her father didn't matter. He'd lost all rights to have an opinion when he'd done _that_ to her.

The next day, she woke up early to what she now knew was morning sickness. But instead of moping around in bed like she _had_ been doing, Riza made her way across town, again to the doctor's practice.

Needless to say, he was surprised to see her.

"Are you having any further problems, Miss Hawkeye?" he asked. "I thought we covered most everything yesterday."

"We did," Riza replied. "But, the nurse I talked to? I was wondering if I could maybe talk to her again."

The doctor gave a little smile. "Of course," he said softly. "I'm sure Lisbeth would be happy to speak with you again."

He left the room and shortly after the nurse she had seen yesterday, Lisbeth, entered.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Lisbeth said. "You didn't seem to want any help yesterday."

"Well, that was yesterday," Riza said, without looking at the nurse directly. "You said that there were options, right?"

"Yes, there are," Lisbeth said. "The first option would be to terminate the pregna-"

"No," Riza said clearly, looking the nurse in the eye for the first time. "I-I mean," her voice softened immediately. "I just can't do that."

"I understand," Lisbeth said sympathetically. "I wouldn't be able to either."

"Is there anything else I can do?"

"There is one other thing," the nurse said. "I know a very lovely married couple who have had a lot of trouble conceiving a child of their own. I'm sure that they would be more than willing to adopt your child."

Riza bit her lip.

"You could meet with them, of course," Lisbeth clarified. "To make sure you felt comfortable doing such a thing."

"Arrange it," Riza said resolutely. "I'm in if they are."

* * *

><p>It had taken a few weeks to arrange all of the details for the meeting with the couple who wanted to adopt the baby. Their names were Stefan and Julia – he was a small time lawyer and she was a housewife – and they lived a few towns over, which was a relief to Riza. It meant that if everything went as planned and they adopted baby, there wouldn't be any chance of Riza say, running into them in the marketplace.<p>

Lisbeth offered to take her to their home to discuss details, and Riza gratefully accepted. The alternative was Stefan and Julia visiting _her _home, and with her father back from his latest trip, that simply wouldn't do.

Riza hadn't told her father, well, anything. She doubted he was completely in the dark about what she and Roy had been doing. He'd have been blind not to know that _something _was going on between the pair. They were teenagers, after all. But as far as her... _condition_ was, he knew nothing. It was difficult to start any sort of conversation with the man, and to drop a bombshell of this nature? Well, it was damn near impossible.

Now Riza was in the passenger seat of Lisbeth's car, on her way to meet the people who would hopefully adopt her baby. She was dressed in a nice pair of corduroy and a button-down, which, though she was not showing quite yet, was unsettlingly tight around her midriff.

"Are you okay over there?" Lisbeth asked from the driver's seat. "Having any second thoughts?"

"No," Riza said firmly. There was one thing she was sure about in this whole situation: she could _not_ take care of a baby. She didn't even _hav_e a mother, and she certainly didn't know how to be one. "This is what I want."

"It's admirable of you, really," Lisbeth commented. "You're giving these people something they thought they couldn't have. I'm sure that they're very grateful to you."

Riza swallowed nervously and didn't reply. There was nothing admirable about having a child out of wedlock. Many young women her age had children, but it was the result of early marriage. Out here in the country, it was common for girls to marry at fifteen or sixteen. Riza hadn't thought about it herself, though. In fact, she rarely thought about marriage at all. She saw her future self actually _doing_ something – teaching, maybe – but certainly not being somebody's housewife. It suited some women just fine, but the idea repulsed her.

When they arrived at the house – a big Plantation-style home, Riza noted – Stefan and Julia were waiting on the front steps. They both walked to the car as it pulled in and ushered Riza inside, offering her a seat and a lemonade. They were beaming with excitement.

"When are you due?" Stefan asked, getting right to the point.

"Late December," Riza replied. Not soon enough, she thought as the hot June sun shined through the windows.

Julia was more cautious. "And you're sure?" she asked. "I know that this is a big decision to make so quickly."

"I'm sure," Riza said. "I'm not going to wuss out on you, if that's what you're worried about." Maybe she should have been a little nicer – they were being so kind to her – but if the couple noticed her rudeness, they pretended not to have heard.

After a round of questions about the baby's health and what her vitamin regimen was and whatnot (Lisbeth answered most of these questions for her), Stefan and Julia began to ask about Riza herself.

"Do you enjoy school?" Julia asked.

"Er," Riza replied. The truth was, Riza hadn't been to school since her father had "recorded" his research on her back in April. She had planned to start going again, she really had, but it seemed silly now. "I'm a good student," she said lamely.

They wanted to know _everything_ about Riza. It was almost annoying, but it was certainly better than being at home where _no one_ would talk to her. And at least they seemed legitimately interested. They would make good parents, Riza decided. That was enough for her.

When Riza arrived home that night, she didn't tell her father where she had been. She just prepared supper as usual. They ate together in silence. Now would be the perfect time to tell him, Riza thought, but she couldn't. Days went by, and she still didn't tell him. And then it was weeks. And then she didn't need to tell him.

By August, Riza was visibly showing. She wasn't trying to hide it, but her father didn't acknowledge her growing stomach. He didn't acknowledge _her_. She prepared meals daily, which he ate in his study, and every few days, while he was sleeping or cleaning himself up, she would sneak in to gather all of the dirty dishes. Their relationship hadn't been... communicative before, but now it seemed that her father was avoiding her, and desperately so.

Riza tried to convince herself that this didn't bother her. If he wouldn't acknowledge her situation, and then, when the time came, she gave the baby to Stefan and Julia, then after a while it would be like this whole disaster never happened. But truly, she wanted _someone_ to talk to.

At the end of August, her father informed her he would be leaving for another trip (what he did on these trips she did not know) and that it would be quite a long one (three months perhaps). He didn't ask if she would be okay. It just a statement.

When he left at the beginning of September, it was as if a weight had been lifted off Riza's chest. Sure, it was still lonely and quiet in the house, but she no longer felt as if she was being silently watched, and silently judged. It was almost relaxing.

It was about the time when young people were returning to school for the fall. Most of the boy's Riza's age had either been shipped off to a more expensive private academy or taken up a family business, but she knew a few girls who attended classes at the local school, and she would have been one of them if not for her situation. In lieu of school assignments, Riza took up reading to combat her chronic boredom.

Most of the books in the house were part of her father's alchemy research, which did not interest Riza in the least, but there was also quite the collection of history books. For some reason, military history fascinated her the most. How some battles were carefully calculated, while others were won by extreme strokes of luck.

The unintended consequence of her new fascination was that it made her think of Roy. When she wasn't careful, she found herself wondering how his training was going, how _he_ was doing, and, the worst, if he was thinking of her too. When she let her mind wander like this, her hands often gravitated to her ever-swelling stomach, to the child he would _never _know about.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So that was super-depressing, but the next chapter is Roy-centric and will be a little more fun. I was going to post this Wednesday, but Harry Potter mania happened and things got a little crazy. (What did you guys think of the movie?)_

_Thanks to Reflected Grace, Adelheid A, jejune stars, and FMAddict524 for reviewing the last chapter!_

_Elizabeth_


	4. Hiatus

Hey guys!

Sorry, but this story (after six months) is officially on hiatus. My other FMA story, _Too Much Free Time_ will be updated regularly though. Thanks for reading as far as you have and I may take this up sometime in the future. I've been concentrating more on personal writing projects and fan fiction has been put on the back burner. I really enjoy this community and want to continue to be involved!

Thanks,

Elizabeth


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